The need for love is obsolete - and dead
When life is so fast with frictional vice
Body on body turning in your bed
Betwixt the sheets with no love but still nice
No need for bitter moans, anger just lust
When a solo gains more credit than a
Duo torn by *** fading into dust
Grounded down into nothing day by day.
Whilst I exist without my mirror soul
Generates views of empty and hopeless
By lovers who will ask if I feel whole
And filling it with a vacant caress?
My answer is - I don't need any luck
'Cause frankly my dear, I don't give a ****!